


The Tenant

by Gunderpants



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Matilda - Roald Dahl
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Crossover, Gen, Post - Prisoner of Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunderpants/pseuds/Gunderpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jennifer Honey seeks a new tenant for Primrose Cottage</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tenant

**Author's Note:**

> I was truly delighted to find this on Wayback Machine from 2006: I was worried, like many of my fics, that it hadn't been cached. Fortunately, this and a handful of others are safe, which I am very pleased about.
> 
> Extend your imagination to allow the events in Matilda and PoA to happen concurrently, even though the timelines don't strictly match up.

When all things were settled and she could finally move into Aunt Ag-- _her_ house, Jennifer Honey realised that she could not hold off finding a replacement tenant for the tiny little farmer's cottage she once called home. She probably needn't have bothered herself, given that she was neither landlord nor continuing resident, but she felt a sense of ownership over the little one-roomed hut that she doubted its rightful legal owner could match, and she couldn't face the prospect of a dreadful tenant spoiling her former den of respite.

The prospectives for Primrose Cottage were varied yet largely inappropriate: some were students whose low standards of housing failed even to be met here; some were the obnoxious professional type, looking for cheap weekend accommodation in the countryside and who were turned off by the lack of plumbing and electricity. 

On the last day that she ran an advertisement in the newspaper she received a call from the real estate agent, telling her that there was a prospective tenant who had seen the house and was most happy to commence paying rent for it. For a moment, she considered simply letting the agent handle the business side, but she remembered that her sole human contact these days was with the little five year olds she taught at Crunchem Hall, and so she agreed to take the renter out to settle details and inspect the premises for damage. She bundled little Matilda up in a thick woollen shawl that could almost double as a blanket (for the wind was very cold out, and she'd yet to take the girl shopping for clothes), and set off for the tiny brick cottage along the honeysuckle-lined way.

She wondered if the cottage picked its residents: the man looked as if he'd aged terribly, and he was thin and clad in threadbare clothes. He shook her hand softly as he introduced himself, and she could feel the bone biting beneath his skin. Matilda looked at him as if he were a fascinating museum exhibit, and he even knelt down in order to shake her hand as well. "Your coat looks like a wizard's magical robes!" she said in an excited whisper. He nodded bemusedly at her, and caught Jenny's eye for half a second, and she thought she almost saw a glimmer of worry in his eyes at an aspect of himself being held under such attention, so she cleared her throat to get the inspection back on track.

"I'm afraid it's not much," she said, indicating across the meagre space. "I don't know if you could really fit a bed in here; I used to sleep on the ground, myself."

"Well, if it was fine for you to do so, then I imagine that I will survive as well, given that I don't have a bed." He smiled kindly, and she saw the lines by his eyes crinkle deeper. He was shivering slightly, which she could definitely understand given the coldness of the day and his thin garments. 

"I did have a little paraffin heater, though; that one over there. I haven't had a chance to take it back yet." She looked at the little stove, and wondered how it was that it had ever kept her warm in the first place.

"So long as you can find something to warm the place up, it's really not so bad in the wintertime," Matilda said with a quick little voice. "All you need is a heater and some blankets and it can get quite cosy, actually."

"I think I'll manage," he responded, looking across the cottage. "Is there running water?"

"A well, I'm afraid. It works perfectly well, but it's a bit old."

"That will be quite all right." He looked out the little window across the paddock and the pathway, and Jenny wondered how destitute someone would have to be to be satisfied with a tiny little run-down shack with no electricity or running water. "How long did you live here, Miss..."

"Honey, but you may call me Jenny. I... I don't know, really. A couple of years, at least. Ever since I went to teacher's college."

He turned back around. "A teacher? What year do you teach?"

"Kindergarten." 

"Ah. I was a teacher, for a while."

"Why did you stop?" Matilda had perched herself on a little wooden box that had once been used as a dining table. "You're still quite young, I imagine--"

"It was long and complicated," he said diplomatically. "I do miss it an awful lot, though."

Matilda nodded, her dark fringe sweeping into her eyes. "I think you'd be a nice teacher to have."

"Thank you." He seemed genuinely touched to receive the tiny compliment, and Jennifer saw his face relax slightly. She was grateful that Matilda hadn't made any comment about his clothing or his malnourished appearance - though she knew there wouldn't be any malice, she was apt to remark with both her naivety and her lack of understanding as a young child who'd never known poverty. "You know, you remind me of a student I had. Do you like books?"

"You'll get her started," Jenny said as a wry smile crossed her face. Matilda, by now, was nearly bouncing off the roof.

"Now, Miss Honey--"

"I did say you could use my first name, you know."

He smiled at her. "Usually I have young women telling me the exact opposite thing. I apologise. I was going to ask about the matter of rent."

"Oh. I've only ever paid ten pence a week, I don't imagine it will have gone up."

"Ten pence a week?"

"Well, there's no heating, I suppose--"

"No, no, it doesn't matter. I think I will be renting this house, if the landlord doesn't mind."

She regarded the man in front of her with something of wonder and sadness. She wondered how little he had to have that he would resort to such dwellings. "If you don't mind me asking, Mr ... Lupin, was it?"

"That's right."

"Why would you want to rent a place like this? It has none of the comforts, or even necessities, of most of the other houses out there. You could probably find something a lot nicer than this if you were willing to spend a bit more money."

He sat down on a box next to Matilda's, and his face fell slightly. "Well, I quite like it, to be honest. I don't need much, and I like that it's quiet and set away from other houses and the town. And... er... I don't know if you noticed, but I don't have a lot of money."

"I can understand that," she said gently. "But it's not easy to live here, especially if you don't have a large enough income to cover for small comforts."

"I've never been able to afford a place of my own," he said quietly. "I've been poor for so long now that I never thought I could do so." 

Long ago, Jennifer had felt the first stirrings of freedom when she'd laid eyes on the tiny little brick house at the end of a path that had whispered pastoral poetry to her through the wind. She didn't quite see the hope of freedom in his face so much as she did the hope of dignity; he looked as if he needed a place to reconcile the deepest of loss, and as a gust of wind blew through the window, she picked up the scent of the honeysuckle in the air. Her frail body ached in the mornings from the hard ground beneath her, and she always fell asleep hungry, but she truthfully knew that she couldn't think of a lovelier place. She looked at his patched coat and and pallid face, and wondered if it would be the first time in a long time that this man would sleep under a roof. "I understand very well, Mr Lupin."

"When will the landlord allow me to move in here?"

"I expect he won't mind when," she admitted. "So long as you leave the rent beneath the front doormat every month you won't hear from him."

"Then it would be all right to move in as soon as possible?"

Another gust blew in from the south, and she saw Matilda pull the cloak around her shoulders tightly. She wondered if he would mind the cold air that came in through the gap under the door, and she saw his fists balled into the pockets of his coat. 

"I do not think it will be a problem. Matilda, have you got your things?"

The little girl held her hand out to the man one more time, her inquisitive little eyes never leaving his. "You'll like Primrose Cottage," she whispered to him. "I love it here."

"I'll try to look after it, then."

Jennifer pulled on her own cloak as Matilda led her to the door. As soon as an icy gust hit her in the face, she turned, out of guilt, to the new resident of her home. "Oh, wait."

"Yes?"

"That paraffin stove. I was going to take it back with me today, but I think it's getting a bit late, and it's a little too heavy to carry. I think I'll have to leave it here for a while until I can sort it out." She smiled, and squeezed Matilda's hand. "You can use it while it's here, if you like."

He nodded politely. "Thank you very much. I'll try not to burn the house down."

Jennifer closed the door behind her as they left, and resolved to never retrieve the stove while Mr Lupin lived there.

***


End file.
